"Then you will give her to me?" she said, imploringly. "I will not say a word to any one about being your wife if you will give me my child. I know now why you shut me up there with Mrs Walls. I have thought it out: it was that you might marry some one rich; for I, when my head went, was not fit to be your wife. But I could not help it." "Well, well; go now," cried Richard, impatiently; "and we will talk about that afterwards." She rose to her feet slowly, clasping his hand in both her own, and gazing earnestly in his face, as if trying to read his thoughts; and they must have been plain to read, for, as if she saw in his face cruelty, treachery, and a repetition of her long sufferings, she dashed the hand away, and stood defying him once more, the former rage flashing in her eyes as she repeated her demand--"Give me my child!" "Go and wait for me there, then," said Richard, sullenly. "I will never leave you till I have my child," she exclaimed. Again the cruel, malignant look came into his face as Richard Pellet cursed laws, protection, everything that stayed him from crushing out the life that now rose in rebellion against him. He cursed his own hypocrisy, which now fettered him with chains such as stayed him from setting this burden at defiance and casting it off for ever. "I told you before that she was dead," he now said, throwing himself back in his chair. "Dead--dead--dead!" echoed his wife, "and I told you it was a lie--a cruel lie--like those you have told me before. But she is not dead. She was too young, too beautiful to die. Why, I tried to die a hundred times there, in that cold, bare room, in the bitter winters, and I could not. She could not die. You have taken her away, and I will not be cheated again. She is not yours, but mine--mine--my very own. Give me my little one!" she cried, raising her voice. "Here! come with me, then, and you shall have her!" cried Richard, desperately; and snatching up an overcoat, and buttoning it closely over his breast, he led the way into the outer office. "Back in an hour," he said abruptly; and then, closely followed by his unwelcome visitor, he passed into the street, called the first cab he encountered, and, after giving some instructions to the driver, he motioned to his wife to enter; but she refused until he had set the example, when, following him, she took the opposite seat, and the door was slammed, and the vehicle driven off. The clerks in the outer office suspended work as soon as the heavy door swung to, and began to give due attention to this strange visit, which was on all sides declared to be "a rum go," when the door again opened, and Harry Clayton entered. "Mr Pellet returned?" he asked. "Been at the office again, sir; but he has just gone out with a lady. Said he would be back in an hour." "I'll wait," said Harry, and he sat for an hour, and then for another, but still Richard did not return, so he left, and slowly sauntered towards London Bridge.